I arrived in the United States as a student, fleeing the decaying socialism of Eastern Europe. Like many others, I was drawn by the promise of world-class professors, cutting-edge research, and—of course—the ability to speak freely, without fear of reprisal. Over time, I became a U.S. citizen and an advocate for free speech, not because (at that time) it was more threatened here than elsewhere, but because I understood from experience how fragile it truly is. And today that fragility is put to the test.
Growing up behind the Iron Curtain, I was aware that informers were everywhere, poised to report any dissent. Yet, despite their ubiquity, human capacities for surveillance were limited. The government could only monitor so much, and while no one was ever truly safe from the watchful eyes of the state, it was possible to speak and create in relative obscurity.
Today, we face a very different kind of surveillance, one that operates at a scale and precision unimaginable in the days of the Soviet regime. In the digital age, where so much of our lives unfold online, dissenting voices can be algorithmically identified. Social media platforms, coupled with AI-powered tools, can sift through vast amounts of data, detecting “red flags” with terrifying accuracy. We now live in a world where artificial intelligence can detect patterns in speech, sentiment, and behavior, anticipating potential political threats before they even materialize. It’s no longer a matter of having to fear an informant; machine learning is capable of scrutinizing every word we type.
The United States has recently taken a troubling step toward baking surveillance into its visa application process. On June 18th, the U.S. State Department announced the expansion of its Screening and Vetting procedures for foreign students and exchange visitors. This new directive builds on the 2019 requirement, which forced visa applicants to register every social media handle they had used in the past five years across 20 platforms, including Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. But the latest update goes far beyond that: embassy officials are now required to examine an applicant’s “entire online presence,” for “hostile attitudes towards our citizens, culture, government, institutions, or founding principles” and any attempt to hide or limit visibility of certain online activity could be seen as an attempt to conceal subversive behavior. The new guidelines “request” that every visa applicant change their settings to “public” to enable full vetting – indicating that they simply won’t be vetted or admitted otherwise. So in addition to the government’s access to our every thought and emoji, it insists that applicants put their entire online presence on blast for the world to see. An explicit quid pro quo: your privacy in exchange for access.
The new guidelines suggest that a “hostile attitude” toward the U.S.—which could include criticism of government policies or international actions—would be grounds for visa denial. But what exactly constitutes a “hostile attitude” is left to the subjective discretion of consular officers. A dissenting opinion on U.S. foreign policy? A call for climate action? A criticism of racial injustice? All of these could fall within the broad, nebulous category of “hostility” under this directive.
Social media platforms have become virtual dossiers, cataloging every aspect of our lives, while AI systems can process previously unimaginable amounts of data, with the ability to flag and categorize “suspicious” activity. A post supporting a political protest, a tweet criticizing a government policy, or a blog sharing views contrary to the status quo can all be algorithmically flagged as hostile attitudes or signs of subversive intent.
This expanded vetting will have significant and far-reaching consequences. It isn’t just about protecting national security—it’s about controlling political thought. It’s about targeting those who dare to speak out, whether they are foreign students or the next generation of global leaders.
If these students, seeking refuge in a land of free thought, are forced to expose their digital lives to scrutiny by government authorities, we risk turning the U.S. into a place of surveillance, not sanctuary. Dissenting voices may choose to stay silent—or, worse, stay away altogether. And if they choose to stay away, America loses not just the brightest minds but also the diverse perspectives that enrich our universities, research institutions, and the broader fabric of society.
The economic costs are equally staggering. Foreign students contribute billions of dollars to the U.S. economy each year, from tuition fees to local spending. But beyond the immediate economic benefits, it is the intellectual capital that foreign students bring with them that is most valuable. Many of them stay after graduation, launching successful companies, advancing scientific knowledge, and strengthening America’s position as a global economic and technological powerhouse. If these students are dissuaded from coming to the U.S., they may choose to go elsewhere, depriving America of the talent that drives innovation.
The selective withdrawal of free speech rights from foreign students seeking a visa does not directly affect US Citizens’ own free speech rights. Not yet. And that is why there doesn’t appear to be much alarm. But the mechanisms are being put into place and the technology that is being developed to police dissenters at the borders will only improve. The algorithms will only become more sophisticated.
And if we allow this surveillance infrastructure to take root, it won’t be long before the lines between protecting national security and controlling political speech become blurred. Just one exaggerated or imagined national security threat could be used to flip the switch and justify turning the surveillance state onto domestic targets.
In the end, the question isn’t just about the rights of foreign students. It’s about whether we, as a nation, are willing to give up the ideals of free speech, privacy, open inquiry, and intellectual freedom that have defined the United States for centuries. Today, foreign students are the canaries in the coal mine. Tomorrow, it could be us all.
The future of free speech in America—and indeed, the future of liberty itself—may very well depend on whether we can recognize the dangers of the AI-powered surveillance state before it’s too late.